Photo Booth
by SlvrSoleAlchmst1
Summary: [SHOUNEN AI: Mello x Matt] What it comes down to... is that Matt's bored again. And there's a photo booth on the side of the city street. At least, that's Matt's excuse. But it turns out that Mello starts to like Matt's idea more than he'd anticipated.


_A/N: GUYS - I forgot I had this fic! I feel like it's some weird fate that I came across it today. I posted it on LiveJournal ages ago! The story: some Matt and Mello cosplayers had dressed up and taken photos inside a purikura (a photo booth), and everyone was cracking jokes about all the dirty things that would go on if Matt and Mello were REALLY inside one. I said, "Guys – I'LL WRITE IT." And I put them in a photo booth._

…_I never posted it on FFN because I was so shocked by what came out. I felt like it didn't fit here, and that I should just keep it inside the LJ community to live its legend there. It's not my usual writing style. It's not how I typically interpret Mello and Matt. I used a different take on their personalities. I write darker stuff when it comes to these two, but this is plain cracktastic and off. AND… it's far more kinky and crude than my other pieces. Really crude, the whole thing, not just the hot sex. (In other words, not like me at all. Consider that a WARNING of sorts.)_

_But I figured, HELL – the LJ people enjoyed it, and last night I posted a fic about stupid _onions_. After that, what could be worse? Although, even THAT fic did fall into my normal conventions… Crap. Maybe I'm just embarrassed, and a spaz. People might find this close to my usual style after all. We'll see. _

"Mello, this has got to be the most boring thing I've done all day."

Matt scratched at the band of his goggles and tried not to lose Mello in the crowd. Drab, dully clad citizens paraded over the sidewalks, marching to and from their destinations like they'd already resigned themselves to Kira-induced heart attacks.

Mello looked back at Matt and sneered. "If all the weird people on the city streets fail to occupy your attention, then I can't help you."

"Weird people?" The corner of Matt's mouth twitched upward. "Weird people like us?"

"Shut the hell up. _I'm_ not weird."

At once, Matt knew he'd found his boredom outlet. It was going to be a decent day. Even if they _did_ have to patrol the block their hotel was on to avoid potential enemy threats.

Matt sidled up to the stiff-backed Mello and whispered wickedly into his ear. "Not weird?" he asked. "You're the one with skin-tight leather pants and provocative belt buckles…" His fingers strayed to the shiny metal of Mello's buckle, and Mello swatted the hand away irately.

"And you're the idiot who never takes off his goggles and gloves. So we're _both _weird. Fine."

"Oh. Did you miscalculate, then?" Matt grinned.

Mello fumed. "I don't _miscalculate_, you cunt. But if you keep licking my earlobe like that, there's a chance I'll _accidentally_ blow your fucking head off for all the details I might be missing about our surroundings right now."

Matt pouted, enjoying the way he seemed to be tweaking Mello's strings. "Aw, but Mello, there's no one after us. We covered our tracks and triple checked already."

"We're talking about Kira, you fool – Kira! We can't afford not to be careful."

"And walking in circles around the block to check for anything suspicious is somehow supposed to prevent…" Matt trailed off, his gaze caught by something glittery on the other side of the street. "Hey, Mello. A photo booth."

"Fuck photo booths."

"I think we should go in."

"Why the _hell_ would I want to go inside a photo booth right now?"

Matt's mouth twitched as he tried to hide a smile. "Well, at least Kira can't see our faces if we're inside one."

Mello raged mutely.

"Besides," Matt's breath hissed hot and seductive by the blonde's ear again, "I _did_ say I was bored. Maybe this could be interesting."

There was a short pause, while Mello kept on walking and ignored Matt entirely. Then, "Interesting _how?_"

It was all Matt needed. He shoved Mello through a cluster of idling people, then up against the window of the clothing store they'd been walking by. The breath went out of Mello in a whoosh. The store clerk gave them a dirty glare through the glass upon hearing the thump of impact, but Matt didn't care.

"Well," he murmured, trapping Mello with his hips and nuzzling his neck, "This could be interesting in all _sorts_ of ways. For example, I've never let you touch me in front of a camera before."

Mello's face flushed crimson. "Matt!"

"What?" Matt asked innocently.

"Arrgh. Fuck you."

Matt took that as a sign of consent. "Sounds like a plan," he said. He dragged Mello away from the window and across the street to where he'd seen the pink and white booth. His eyes fell on the tattered curtain. Then he looked down – there were little feet shuffling about. It was occupied.

Mello tore the curtain aside anyway and snarled at the pair of schoolgirls in the booth. "Enough already. Get the hell out." They squeaked in protest, but a closer look at Matt and Mello did the job. The two girls scrambled to escape and took off down the sidewalk.

Matt reached out and retrieved the strip of paper that protruded from the side of the machine. "Mello, you didn't even let them have their pictures."

Mello snatched the photos and squinted down at the wide smiles and victory signs. "Ridiculous," he said. "I'm about to put this thing to _far_ better use."

Matt choked back a thrilled moan. "We might get walked in on, you know. By another couple of schoolgirls."

"All the better. Let them see that you're mine." At once Mello's teeth were scraping at Matt's tongue, drawing him forward with a kiss that ached of unadulterated lust. He snapped the curtain shut with a flick of his wrist. "Take off your shirt," he demanded next.

Matt blinked. "Mello, we should take _pictures_ first."

Mello snarled and clawed at Matt's shirt himself. "Are you serious? You're the one that started this! I swear to God, Matt—"

"You shouldn't swear to God. You're actually religious."

All Mello did was growl something dark and unintelligible before slamming Matt onto the tiny seat and straddling him with a jerky determination.

"Everyone outside is going to know _exactly_ what's going on in here," Matt said, feeling the friction between them heighten as Mello shifted.

"And I already said I don't care. If you're embarrassed, then don't turn me on in the middle of the street."

"I'm not embarrassed."

"Well, I'm still going to make you pay." Mello rocked his hips forward and Matt groaned.

Matt's hands closed automatically around Mello's waist, then slid down to his waistline as his fingers toyed with the edges of Mello's pants. It wasn't long before he was loosing the belt buckle, pulling at the laces. Mello sucked hard on his neck as he worked to undo the button on Matt's jeans, and then Matt felt Mello's cold, enticing hands on him. He shuddered.

Mello rose and hauled him upright, then spun him around; Matt went flying into the wall of the tiny booth and caught himself just in time to avoid knocking out his own teeth. There was less room than he'd thought. Mello slid Matt's jeans down.

Then at last Mello was pressing against Matt from behind, pushing inside him, past the ring of clenching muscle, thrusting with an urgency that made Matt ache all the more while the booth rocked dangerously.

"Mello, not so hard – we're going to tip over or something." As if to solidify his claim, the flimsy contraption teetered wildly to the rhythm of their lovemaking.

"So what?"

Their breaths mingled, heavy and ragged with passion. The photo booth lurched, gravity and lustful frenzy working together to drive Mello in deeper.

"So," Matt managed to choke out, as a shock of pleasure ran through him and he trembled with desire, "So if we tip over, we'll probably fall right out onto the street." After another heated thrust from a sweaty, cursing Mello, Matt found he didn't really mind the idea.

In fact, why not stir up a little mischief, he thought. With any luck, they _would_ fall out of the booth, and half the SPK would walk by to witness it. Then Matt could give Near the finger over numerous live video feeds and let Mello fuck him right there on the asphalt.

Matt pushed back against Mello as hard as he could, before reaching up behind him to grab Mello's neck. Then he tugged Mello forward for the reverse motion.

_WHAM_.

Hahahaha.

Matt silently congratulated himself and took extra pleasure in the way that Mello's body collapsed against his on impact. All right, so they weren't going to fall completely out after all. But that last satisfying rock had set a group of passing businessmen to complaining loudly. Matt slit an eye open to watch their shiny shoes clicking away beneath the curtain.

Mello seemed to notice his waning attention. "You little shit," he ranted, fisting a handful of Matt's hair and hissing into his ear like sudden death, "Fucking pay attention when I'm fucking trying to fuck you, for crying out loud."

Matt didn't need to be told twice. He'd had his fun. Now he was dying from the ecstasy that was Mello.

Mello was running his hands all over Matt now, up across his chest where his nails scraped like daggers, raking through his hair and tearing at his scalp. He forced Matt harder into the chipping wall of the gaudy booth before withdrawing very, very slowly. Matt let a wanton moan fall from his lips. Then Mello thrust back in with lightning speed and pressure, injecting Matt with blinding yearning and forcing the redhead to stifle his yelp with the knuckle of his glove.

"Oh god, Mello…"

"You wanted this."

Matt could feel the booth quaking around them. "Mello…" Mello's hands reached around his front and gripped him tightly, sliding slick and tight over his swollen member.

Mello's tiny grunts and noises were short and erratic, but Matt could tell the blonde was finally on the brink. Matt shifted his arms to seek a firmer balance as Mello's motions became more enthusiastic, but he found only immediate wall on all sides. He knew there was curtain there too. Matt had nowhere to go, no space to writhe and thrash in his burst of utter satisfaction, no way to liberate the pent up desire that pooled where Mello's hands were stroking and stroking like he wanted Matt to scream for his release. It made Matt ache for it even more.

He came over Mello's hand with a long, low moan and a tremor, and Mello came an instant later, his other hand digging into Matt's hip hard enough to leave marks.

Matt let out a ragged breath. "Mello, I want you to do that to me again."

There came the noise of a buckle being clasped, and Mello's terse voice said, "No. We have a job to finish. We were supposed to be keeping watch."

"Can we at least take pictures, then, since that's what I wanted to come here for?"

"'Wanted to come here for,' my ass," Mello snarled, and Matt had to stifle a chuckle.

He fed a series of coins into the slot and grabbed Mello. "Pose!"

Mello looked vaguely scandalized. The camera flashed once, twice, three times. On the last shot Matt dragged Mello into a kiss.

"I'm never doing that again," Mello muttered as they continued down the crowded street shortly afterward, Matt waving the sparkly-framed pictures in front of Mello's nose with glee.

"They're decent likeness of us weird people, I think." Then Matt stopped short. "Hey, Mello. I see another photo booth…"


End file.
